His Very Own Memorial
by inatimeofmagic
Summary: 4x02 Damon visits Alaric's grave and reflects on their time together. Oneshot. Some language. Damon/Rose, Damon/Elena, Alaric/Jenna


The night and the silence envelops him like a black curtain silencing the audience.

It is remarkably..accurate, though. The play is over.

The last words have been said.

Damon Salvatore slowly lifts his bottle of bourbon whiskey. He sways it in his hands a little, thinking. Considering what to say.

Because there are simply too many things to be said.

Suddenly, he bolts up straight- remembering- remembering , as thought it had surpassed barely minutes ago. Or days.

Or a year?

After all, what meaning does time still have for him?

…...

"I don't know what to say." He whispers it quietly, not intending it for anyone to be heard. Or rather, all except one person. The only person that is there with him.

Alaric.

"Just..talk to her." Rick suggests, his tone a little gentler than Damon would have liked it to be.

„How?" His voice is shaking ever so slightly. And he loathes it. He loathes every pathetic sign of weakness...as that is for humans. And not for them, not for vampires. It was weakness that brought her to her grave...a weakness...a weakness for him.

He hears his best friend sighs, then footsteps on the leafy ground as Alaric steps past him, walking over to the tombstone.

"Hello, Rose." he says, in a conversational, friendly tone, "It's a beautiful sky tonight, isn't it?"

He then turns around to gives Damon a meaning glance.

"Seriously?" The vampire scoffs, „As though I would talk to her like that..Rose wasn't interested in those romantic things like a night sky...

"Oh, she wasn't?" Rick gives the grave an apologetic glance and bows. „I'm sorry, Rose. I didn't want to be a bother." he says solemnly.

Damon rolls his eyes.

"Let me have a go." he mutters, pushing past him.

"Hey, Rose-bud..."

His voice, sounding firm and clear at the first word, crumbles to a whisper.

"I..." He swallows a few times.

"I think it's a beautiful night, isn't it?" He hears Rick laugh softly, but doesn't have the strength to turn around and glare at him.

She doesn't respond, but Damon is almost sure she's sitting there, rolling her eyes. He smirks at the sight.

"Oh come on, Rosebud!" he continues, his tone sounding more like his usual self,

"I was just trying to be romantic, you know, like that agent you liked in that movie..What was his name again? Oh damn, I forgot..." he almost grins, "Too bad, isn't it? As much as you liked his six pack...but I can assure you.." he smirks, as though he can see her, "Mine is much more attractive, you know?"

In his mind, he can hear her laughter, clear and joyful.

Then a little sarcastic comment following it.

"Yes, Rose, I know you'll have to let some sarcasm slide now." he agrees, "I mean - I would."

He sighs and then, as if they were having a normal talk over the phone (which explains why he doesn't see her), continues:

"You know what I told Stef today?" And it goes on from there.

A monologue turned into a conversation and Damon suddenly knows, knows heaps of things he could say to Rose...and he does.

Suddenly, the words come spilling from out of his mouth...an endless stream of happenings he thinks she ought to know about.

Some comments about Elijah.

About Stefan.

He doesn't mention Elena on purpose.

Later on, he wonders what had made him talk to a grave so animatedly- what had made it feel like she was there with him. The answer was clear. A simple icebreaker. A casual introduction. And he remembers who had given him the hint in the first place...

…...

"Floating lanterns in the sky..." he begins, then his eyes darken in annoyance: "Can you believe that?"

Of course, Rick doesn't reply, but Damon simply continues.

"Japanese floating lanterns, as a symbol of letting go of the past."

Alaric, as a history teacher, might have been interested in that piece of information after all. Even if it was bullshit.

"Newsflash."Damon says in a low tone, indicating he is about to let his usual sarcasm slide and then, as expected, adds, with fake surprise: "We're not Japanese!" Lifting his bottle and drinking a long, calming sip that burns in his throat, he imagines he can hear Rick's laughter.

…...

"Newsflash, Rick" Damon says in a low, casual tone while they are strolling down Mystic Falls main street, and then adds in a very sarcastic tone: "Vampires _don't go on holiday_." He gives him a dark side glance: "Japan! Really!"

Rick chuckles slightly. "But I thought you liked Japan, Damon." he says, in a tone he might use to mediate between two fighting freshmen.

"Stefan likes Japan, Ric." Damon corrects him at once,

"And only because he made me watch Death Note doesn't mean I want to pack my bags at once and fly to-"

"Tokio." Rick supplies helpfully, his smile slowly turning into a grin as Damon growls.

"The capital city. What else!"

"Elena suggested it." Rick throws in, "And it offers some good tourism activities- city tours, an international hotel...and they have delicious food, interesting sights...Elena obviously can't wait to go shopping.."

"There's no way out of this, is there?" Damon states, sighing. "No." Rick says, grinning.

There's only one spark of hope left for Damon.

"And what about Jenna? Jeremy?" Please not. Please _not_.

"All coming." Alaric answers and he starts to laugh as Damon slaps himself against the forehead.

…...

"You know what they are?" it suddenly burst out of Damon and he feels anger boils up inside of him.

Anger, Rick of all people, would understand.

"_Children_!" He spits out the word, as though it is venom and raises an eyebrow.

"Like lighting a candle is gonna make-" he pitches his voice to a fake, comforting tone: "_everything okay_ or saying a prayer." He rocks backwards and forwards, feeling the urge to move, to do something, anything, anything to overcome the wave of grief that is about to crash over him.

"Or pretending that Elena is not going to end up like the rest of us murderous vampires."

…...

„Packed any sunscreen?" Damon flips in sarcastically as they march through the woods behind Alaric. It's burning hot.

No wonder Elena is wearing a tank top- one that makes her beauty stand out even more.

Damon tears his eyes away to stop himself from gazing.

"Oh _ha ha_." she says coldly, shaking his head at him.

He smirks. "Well, needless to say, _I _brought my very own sunscreen!" Damon winks at her and jiggles his finger.

"Very well done, Mr. Salvatore." she says, nodding in mock-acknowledgement

He grins back. „Oh, just-"

But he breaks up in mid-sentence as a female voice makes itself heard over the forest noises.

"Good afternoon, there!" A tall, slim woman with shoulder length, blond hair, wearing sturdy hiking clothes and small, emerald studs that glisten in the sun, approaches from the path left to them.

Two teenagers follow up behind her, a girl with long, blond hair and a boy with brown locks which frame his face neatly.

"Good afternoon." Alaric greets them, sounding slightly surprised, but polite nevertheless. "Hello." Elena says, the girl greeting her back.

Damon and the other boy remain silently in the background, the vampire's eyes narrowing in mistrust.

What the hell- are these..werewolves?

The woman lifts the camera that she's hung around her neck. "Would you mind taking a photo of us? My children and me are on a hiking trip through these beautiful mountains and we would love to have a souvenir."

Probably not werewolves. He would notice that. Still, no reason not to be wary.

Not for Alaric obviously who agrees at once to her request. He lifts the camera and the three get in position. Smiling, the woman lays an arm around her children who stand to both her sides. There's a small flash.

"Thank you." she says, when Alaric hands her the machine back.

"And you-" she gestures towards the group, "Shall we take one for you?" The three throw each other a quick side glance.

Damon is about to throw in a firm, but nevertheless - as Rick has just shown- polite _No thank you_, when Rick (to Elena's surprise and Damon's disapproval) agrees.

"Sure, why not! Thank you." He fishes around his bag and then produces a slightly dented, but probably functioning camera.

"Okay then!" The womans eyes sparkle, in a for Damon, incomprehensibly animated way.

"Come her, you two." Alaric grins towards them both, and Elena jumps to his side, smiling, while Damon remains about a foot apart from them, until Rick pulls him closer.

Before he can protest, there is already a flash and the woman hands the camera back. Rick admires the photo on the small screen, purposefully ignoring Damon's grim expression and states what a nice shot it is.

"Always great to have a family souvenir, isn't it?" the woman agrees and while Rick replies and they both start to chat about something irrelevant, the word's ring in Damon's ears. "Family souvenir..."

Looking back from Elena, back to Rick and imagining himself standing next to them, he realizes that in fact, is it understandable why she thought of them in that way – but he quickly tries to shake off the idea. Family souvenir.._really_...

"Damon!" A voice tears him out of his thoughts. Elena and Rick are a long way ahead of him already, there's no sign of the other group, they have obviously left. Damon's blinks a few times to adjust his thoughts. He catches Rick grinning at him ever so slightly.

"Coming, son?"

"W-what!" Damon blurts out and Alaric and Elena start laughing simultaneously.

"Guys.._not_ funny..." Scowling even as he joins them, Damon mentally notes the woman down on his own personal To Die list.

Still, when Rick hands him a copy of the photograph a few days later, he carefully places it in his nightstand, locking it away safely. And taking it out, now and then, when Stefan is being a Klaus-manipulated-bastard again and when Damon feels the need for some kind of "Family Souvenir."

…...

"And I know what you're going to say..." he trails off, rolling his eyes and then makes a rather bad attempt of imitating Alaric's voice: "_It makes them feel better, Damon._" So what?" he hisses, his words reverberating in the cold night air.

Eying the rectangular tombstone grimly, which with its candles and flowers holds an ironical resemblance to a birthday cake.

„A minute? A day?"

He softens his tone a little. He never intended to snap at them for trying to..make their own memories more bearable.

"What _difference_ does it make?"

But neither can he ever agree with them...the pain, in his very own, shut-off heart, is too much for a lantern to carry.

His feet lift as though on their own accord and then, he is standing in the middle of the graveyards gesturing wildly with his hands as though he's teacher trying to make his class understand an important matter.

A teacher. Oh, the irony.

„When you loose somebody, every candle, every...prayer, is not going to make up for the fact that all you have..." he takes a deep breath, as his voice is threating to crack and even if his only audience are a few lost spirits, probably bored out of hell from his long-lasting speech, he will not allow himself to show weakness in front of them, "left..."

another deep breath and then he speaks more quietly, in an gentle, slightly desperate tone,

"is a hole in your life- where that _somebody_ used to be."

…...

He hears someone enter, but whoever it is, he doesn't care anyway.

Whoever it is..that person can _go to hell_ and take the rest of them along.

Damon is shaking, his eyes closed, curled up in tight ball on the sofa.

The footsteps are coming closer. His inside scream with the urge to get up and not

let himself get seen in this weakened state.

But on the other hand, he doesn't a give a fuck.

He hopes it isn't Elijah..not Elijah, again, with his morals on how even the dead people are not gone forever.

And Elena and her tears and hugs and apologies, although it is hardly her fault.

And Stefan, who stands there, not knowing what to say, except a quietly muttered: „I'm sorry."

But what else can he say? "_I'm sorry your friend is dead, but thanks anyway for taking away Lexi half a year ago._"

Oh Shit.

No, _no_, not that as well...

He curls up even tighter as a faint sob escapes his lips.

"Hey, buddy..." Hearing the familiar voice, he stiffens at once. He feels a slight weight on the sofa, as someone sits down beside him.

Then it is gone. But there is a hand, all the sudden, a hand stroking over his back.

"Now, Damon..." He hears Alaric sigh as he continues to stroke him.

"She's...dead..." The words escape Damon's lip before he can hold them back, "_D-dead_..and it's all.._all... _my f-fault..."

A strangled sob cuts him off.

"Shh..." Alaric whispers, the hand traveling to his hair and Damon feels gentle fingers combing through it.

He curls up even tighter.

He doesn't want his comfort...

he doesn't.._need_ his comfort...

"_Go away_." He tries to snap it, but it comes out almost pleadingly.

Pathetic. Pathetic, Damon.

"You know I'm not going to go away..." Rick says gently, not pausing his soothing actions for a second, "Perhaps you would like to...talk about it..."

There is a small pause, in which the only thing to be heard is the cracking of the fire.

"There is nothing to talk about." Damon replies after a while, his voice strained and barely audible. "Nothing?" Rick asks rhetorically.

Damon doesn't answer, tries with all his might to keep himself from crying.

Not in front of...him..."Then would you listen to me?"

Again, Damon gives no sign of having heard him, but Rick starts to talk, anyway: "You know I know how hard this is for you. But...I also know she loved you. She loved you, Damon. Rose _loved_ you...very much. And Jules-" Damon twitches at her name, "she was only trying to get her own revenge...for Mason. And as we.." he sighs, "Met her at the wrong place at the wrong time..."

"I provoked her!" Damon whispers desperately, his fingers digging in the sofa, "I provoked Jules! She was trying to kill me! It is all my fault...all my fault..."

"Damon, you know that isn't-" Rick begins, but is cut off when Damon begins to cry for real.

The tears won't stop coming...and his grief is overtaking him, his sight, his whole perception...everything blurs as he squeezes his eyes hut again and then...

Damon feels someone lifting him by the waist. He is too weak to do much more than fidget a little, before he feels himself being lent against a warm chest.

"It's all okay..." he hears Rick's voice whisper gently above him, as an arm lays itself around him and Damon, without looking, realizes Rick has more or less pulled him in a hug.

"What...why.." he manages to say, but Alaric shushes him. They remain like that for a few more minutes, in which Rick lets his friend cry in silence.

Once he seems to be getting a grip on himself again, he starts to speak.

"Damon, it _wasn't_ your fault. Jules was on the look-out for any kind of...provocation. She was dangerous, she would have attacked your for far less, just to stir up some trouble in this town..and Rosemary..she was incredibly brave until the end..she sacrificed herself, because she loved you..she knew you still had someone who needed you, while her family, on the other hand.."

"I have no-one." Damon states, anger suddenly flaring up in him and makes a rather weak attempt to free himself, which fails due to his friend gripping him tighter, "I have _no_-"

"You have Stefan, Damon." Alaric says in a serious tone, „You have _Stefan_."

This quietens him.

Rick is right..although he would never admit it...

"Never forget that you have a little brother who would be completely...lost...without you. Never forget what Rosemary sacrificed herself for...if she hadn't, it would not only have been you who was..devastated now..."

"Why didn't she let me take the..bite.." Damon whispers into Alaric's shirt, "It's not like..I've made a big effort to brighten up Stefan's life..I should have just died with her..."

"Don't _ever_ say that." Alaric growls, gripping both of his arms with all of his hunter strength ,

"Don't _ever say something like that_, Damon Salvatore!"

Damon is so taken aback by his sudden outburst and not feeling up to any fight, that he decides to agree, anyway.

"Fine.." he mutters, head still resting against Rick's shirt. He hears his best friend sigh and the grip on his arms slackens. Instead, there's once again a hand, stroking up and down his back comfortingly. "Don't ever forget that there are many people here who need you, Damon..." Alaric whispers, „Stefan, Elena..." He makes a small pause,

„Me." he adds.

Damon nods absentmindedly, "Don't ever forget we need you. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Damon whispers.

And then Alaric stays there with him as they sit in silence, lets him mourn about and offers comfort when he needs it.

And that is exactly what Rick remains for him in the next time.

His solid wall. His solid wall that keeps him from breaking.

…...

"And a rock..with a birthday carved into it I'm pretty sure he's wrong."

Alaric would have laughed at his, or at least smiled, shaking his head at Damon's dry humor.

"So..thanks friend." Damon concludes, sitting back down on a gravestone.

"Thanks for leaving me here to babysit."

There's a bitter edge to his voice.

Since when was it his job to look after all these children? He hadn't really cared too much for Stefan those last 145 years, of course he'd always been there to see whether the youngest Salvatore was alright and not in one of his usual trouble, but he hadn't e_xactly _filled the requirements that came with "_older brother_."

And now, the list of people he was supposed to care about and look after and protect...it simply got longer and longer.

Damn it.

Damn you, Alaric.

"I should be _long_ gone by now." he mutters, sounding and feeling as though he'd aged centuries no the spot. Like an old man at the bar, drowning in memories of his past life and all the chances he'd missed.

But it was true for him. He was an old man, in a way.

He should have never lived as long as he did.

"I didn't get the girl, remember?" He quirks up his eyebrows sarcastically, leaning in his head towards the gravestone. Then slowly turning away from it again.

"I'm just stuck here, fighting with my brother and taking care of the kids."

…...

When Alaric turns up at his doorstep in the middle of the night, Damon isn't even surprised.

Scanning him up an down, an eyebrow raised, he notices at once Alaric is in distress.

His best friend is quivering, running his hand through his hair several times, the other arm shouldering a large traveling bag.

"Not meaning to be a bother, but.." Rick sighs quietly and then, shaking head, makes an attempt to turn around and leave. Damon doesn't let him. "Come in." he states simply, inclining his head towards the interior of the house. Alaric stares at him for a minute, not too sure whether Damon means it.

Of course, they are best friends.

But only until the bar closes at 3pm in the night. Alaric had let Damon stay over exactly one time, a few nights after Rose had died, when Damon had been beside himself.

Now sounded like a rather good time to return the favor.

"Well, come in, already." Damon rolls his eyes impatiently and beckons him inside. Rick gives him a small smile, nods and then steps inside the mansion.

He seems awed by the colossal architecture, as always.

Damon can't help it, he rolls his eyes a second time and then walks towards the bar, to pour them a drink.

"Leave the bag next to the stairs, I'll show you your room later." he calls back to Alaric.

For a minute, as Damon is still lifting the glasses, there is silence. Then Alaric enters the living room, eying him a little bewilderedly: "How did you know.."

"Instinct, Rick." Damon answers, giving him a meaning look and handing him a glass of vodka he's filled to the brim, "Pure _instinct_."

"And the immense size of my equipment, I presume." Alaric replies bitterly, taking it and casting a rather guilty glance at Damon.

"Oh please." Damon smirks, „I'd have _never_ noticed."

Rick forces himself a small laugh, then quaffs down his drink. "I..." he sighs, again, breaking off in the middle of the sentence. "Well, I-"

He makes another attempt to speak.

Damon doesn't let him, tearing the now empty glass out of his hand and, in an instant, refilling it. "There." he hands it back to Alaric, giving him a meaningful look. "Down with this first. You'll feel much better and all the talking will just.." he makes an overacted gesture with his arms, "Flow out of you."

"Not all of us are alcohol-resistant vampires, Damon." Alaric mutters, but takes a few sips, visibly relishing in the taste.

"Says the chronic drinker." Damon replies sarcastically.

Alaric smiles ever so slightly and then- does something completely unexpected.

„Thank you."

There is a long silence.

And when Alaric starts to speak again, Damon doesn't interrupt him. "As you have guessed correctly...I was driving through town without a destination, I was trying to...you know...get some space..get away from everything. And then I ended up here, more or less. So if it's okay..."

"Of course it's okay, Rick." Damon says with clear annoyance, "Why shouldn't it be?"

"It's more like barging in in the middle of the night."

"_Never_ heard of in this household." Damon says with biting irony, "But you, know." his tone becomes normal again: "I'll make an exception for you. Team Bad Ass has to stick together, doesn't it?" He grins at him.

"Yeah." Rick answers, sighing quietly and setting his glass down on the counter, "Stick together."

Damon raises an eyebrow again: "What is wrong, Rick?"

There's no sign of mockery in his voice anymore..but something like slight concern. No, he doesn't worry, he would never. He is merely...curious.

"Was it birthday girl? Or the problem child?"

Damon, typically Damon, with his nicknames for everything and everyone. But of course Alaric knows he means Elena and Jeremy.

"It's more like I hurt them, Damon." he admits, sighing once again. "And..how?" Damon asks.

Trying to manipulate Rick into speaking by staring at him hard, but he's pretty sure that isn't working. Luckily, Rick does that on his own accord.

"I'm just not made to be a...role model, Damon." it suddenly bursts out of Rick and Damon sees his grip tighten around the glass, "I'm just not made to be a...replacement parent..a _father_...I can't do this! I was _never_ supposed to do this!"

Suddenly, he looks up.

Damon meets the brown eyes, sees desperation and fear and guilt flickering in them.

"I cannot do this." Alaric whispers, standing there, looking lost and broken.

"I don't think anyone is forcing you to do it." Damon answers quietly, not knowing what to say or what to do. "It's..."

Now it's his turn to sigh. "It's because of Jenna, right?"

Alaric doesn't look at him, but the way he turns his face away, screwing his eyes shut tells Damon more than he needs to know.

"It's okay." Damon says quickly, not for everything wanting to risk Rick starting to cry in front of him..him..he can barely handle Stefan when he does that.

It's good his little brother takes after Damon in that way, he usually keeps his emotions locked away inside of him.

Inside his mind and in Stefan's case, as well in his journal.

_Stefan_.

He feels guilt pierce through him and tries to push it away.

No time for that now.

There's someone else who..needs him.

"Rick..." The sound of his name seems to do the trick.

Alaric opens his eyes again, but the fear hasn't vanished from them.

"I'm...sorry." Damon says, stumbling over the last word. He doesn't need to apologize, of course.

But he knows what Alaric is going through now..loosing someone. The endless cycle you experience as a vampire.

It's no wonder Damon hates making friends.

"I miss her so much." Alaric says suddenly, massaging his forehead, "So much..oh _god_..."

he sighs. "I know." Damon answers, taking a sip of his drink.

"And about Elena and Jeremy...seriously, Damon..what should I do? What should I do?" He almost sounds pleading.

Damon bites his lip, not really knowing howto answer this question.

Elena..his beautiful, strong Elena..she is an adult, of course.

There is no need for them to have a babysitter, _he_ would never ask anyone to look after him in this situation. But then there's Jeremy. And the fact that these two aren't him, that they still have this..flood of emotions inside of them, a clear lack of life experience and this inexpressible human need...to _bond_.

"Tell you what, Rick." Damon replies after a long while, resting both hands on the counter and frowning a little, "You need to stay with them."

Alaric stares at him for a long while without speaking, so Damon continues:

"They.." he looks away uncomfortably, as he knows that what he is about to say is going to sound incredibly cheesy and so human, but then resumes eye contact and says it anyway: "need you, Rick. They need...family. They need this..role model, even if you're not perfect- you're just ideal for them. Someone who knows about all the supernatural creatures." he smirks at little at defining himself this, "in this town, someone who can actually protect them. Elena might be an adult, but she has just lost family...again. She needs someone to..ah, you know...confide in." he adds reluctantly, "and Jeremy..you know him. He's a junior. He isn't even close to finishing school. And he's..I think he's even more..vulnerable. So you see..the only way to...be...giving Jenna something back..."

Rick twitches at the mention of her name, but remains silent nonetheless, staring at him, "is to take care of what she...left behind. Which means, the kids, obviously. Take care of them. They...seem to really like you. No surprise there."

He rolls his eyes for the third time and sees the corners of Rick's mouth twitch.

He knows he's almost won.

"So take care of them, Rick, okay?" He throws him an intensive look.

"Take care of them. You surely won't regret it." After he's finished, he quickly finishes his drink.

The burning feeling in his throat helps to block out the thoughts of what a speech he just delivered.

Holy shit.

If someone else had been present, they would have never let him live it down.

But when he looks back at Rick, he sees the determination etched clearly in his features.

"I think you're right." he says hoarsely, nodding at him.

"It might be difficult, but..I have to think about Elena and Jeremy first now. They do need someone...and I'm sure Jenna would have wanted it, too."

"I think so, too." Damon confirms it, "She would have been the first one to get someone to look after them." Alaric nods again.

"Yes. That would have been my Jenna."

He smiles sadly.

"So are you...are you going to move back in then?" Damon asks directly, not wanting to risk a possibly teary outcome of the situation.

"I don't think I'll be left a choice, will I?" Alaric asks rhetorically.

"But-" there's a long pause.

"I think I'll enjoy it." The smiles seems more genuine now and Damon quirks the corners of his mouth. "Sure you will, Rick."

He claps his back twice, the closest thing Rick is going to get to a hug.

"Thank you."

Alaric says it very quietly, but loud enough for Damon to hear. The vampire nods, albeit a little reluctantly. He was really hoping that they might have skipped this part..his hopes are destroyed however when Rick pulls him towards himself with his left arm for a rather manly hug, letting go shortly afterwards.

"You're drunk." Damon states, a smirk playing around the edge of his lip, „Really drunk, Rick. Your bedroom's upstairs. We should get going."

A while later they're standing on the first floor of the Salvatore mansion. Damon gestures around the large corridor: "Pick one of them."

"Oh." Alaric actually seems a little undecided at first, looking from on door to another, something Damon finds rather amusing.

"Then let's just take- this one." He attempts to push open one of the doors, but Damon's hand is on the wooden surface in a second and prevents him from doing so.

"_Another_ one." Damon mutters, not looking at him.

It begins to dawn on Alaric. "Saving Stefan's, huh?" he says.

"It's _late_." Damon replies coldly.

Damn it.

Did Alaric have to start this topic? Weren't they just talking about his own drama?

"Yeah, as I said...there are many. Pick one of the...five. You can even have mine."

"No, it's fine..I'll take this one..." Alaric pushes open the next closest door and finds himself looking into a spacious, pleasantly decorated room.

"This one will do perfectly." Damon nods and watches him place his bag next to the comfortable bed. Suddenly, his best friend throws him an undefinable glance.

"Must be quite lonely sometimes, right?" Taken aback at this question, Damon stares at him for several moments, before shrugging.

"Well, you know..." Alaric walks out, back in the corridor, so Damon finds himself face to face with him again: "You know- just as I'm not leaving Jeremy and Elena, you shouldn't be leaving your little brother. We're going to keep on looking...we'll find him." The determination shines once again, as his stare intensifies: „I promise, Damon." For some odd reason, Damon finds he can't do more but nod, his throat clenching together. "Good Night, Rick." he mutters instead, giving him the hint of a smile and walking down the corridor, turning left for his own room.

His spirits lift as he realizes that this night won't be so lonely after all.

…...

"You owe me big."

Damon finishes bitterly, staring down at Rick's burial site at last time, before getting up and slowly making his way out of the graveyard. He can't take this anymore. He can't take any more memories of Rick rolling over and threatening to suffocate him.

He is on his very own edge. He merely wanted to...talk to him.

Again. Like all the others had done.

He sighs quietly, looks back at last time and then walks away, the little gate swinging close behind him.

He doesn't know that there is in fact someone who has been watching him, for almost the entire time of his mourning.

The ghost of Alaric Saltzman casts a glance at Damon Salvatore's, at his best friend, leaving the graveyard quickly, not wanting to be seen in this weak state. Although it is certain that, especially right now, he could use someone.

"I miss you too, buddy." Rick says quietly, wishing he could be right there, with him.


End file.
